joanne burns: no disguises

1 October 2008

i.
god laughs on as his mulberry
shoes skylark down george street
misunderstanding shreds the air
like a flaming galah, the skate
boarders flash by in mercurial
currents loud as the rocks of
thrace
ii.
he sang to her from the bank
of screens in the store window like
a blue shadow but there were so many
of him she couldn't work out which
one was real her eyes swam with
the dazzle of eurovision, too late
to enrol in the refresher course
in ancient greek
iii.
where can this walk round
the shore of traffic lights take us
your silky dreams collapse like
the virtues of tofu the oysters
may be smoked inside the tin
of their coffins covered in cardboard
but aw shucks you still recall how
to row a new torch hangs on its
hook this isn't weekend
poetry; the tide is edging in